


Love Is Not What Revolution Is For

by feathersandriddles



Category: Gotham - Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, Anastasia Broadway (2018) AU, Edward is Gleb, Grace will be Oswald’s grandmother, Harvey is Vlad, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jim is Dmitry, M/M, Oswald is Anastasia, This will be Anastasia/Gleb NOT Anastasia/Dmitry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 07:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21334417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathersandriddles/pseuds/feathersandriddles
Summary: Its been a decade since every single one of the Van Dahls were killed and brought down from power. The Bolsheviks has been leading the resolution and doing what they can to create a new Russia. Rumors of Oswald Van Dahl still being alive has been spread amongst the people and Edward Nashton has been tasked to put an end to that talk. What happens when Edward runs into a Peter Humboldt, who can’t seem to remember his past and is desperate to get to Paris, and takes interest in him?
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

1907

Young Oswald Van Dahl sat in his bed, feeling pretty much wide awake even after being told it was bedtime.

He had a sketchbook laid out on his lap, pencil in hand and a stern look of concentration on his face as he added more details to the drawing he started. He was humming as he was sketching out a suit with various patterns when someone knocked on his door. Oswald quickly put the sketchbook and pencil underneath his pillow, immediately laid down in bed, threw the covers over his head and closed his eyes.

“Are you still awake?” A soft voice appeared as the door opened.

“No,” Oswald replied meekly. Such an 8 year old response.

Getrud softly laughed.

“Of course you aren’t, my little Cobblepot.” She approached his bed and took a seat near his feet. Oswald slowly appeared from under his covers and sheepishly smiled at her.

“Hi Mother.” 

“Even though I was hoping you would still be awake, why are you?”

Oswald sat up again and reached under his pillow for his work. 

“Father told me he was going to the tailor this week to make us new suits. He said I could draw an idea for mine and maybe he can get it made!” Oswald smiled enthusiastically as he opened the sketchbook and showed Getrud all his drawings. 

“Oh my, this is simply marvelous!” Gertrud exclaimed. “Wherever did you get this talent from? It certainly wasn’t from me.”

“You’re very talented, Mother.”

“Not as talented as you, my little Cobblepot” Getrud said as he booped his nose. 

Oswald scrunched it.

“Mother, I don’t like when you do that. Leave my ugly nose alone.”

“Nonsense! It is not ugly. I won’t accept that kind of talk. It’s beautiful just like the rest of you.”

Oswald looked down, not buying it.

“I have something for you!” Getrud said, changing the subject and addressing the reason she was there.

“What is it, Mother?” Oswald instantly became intrigued, his previous sadness forgotten. He loved presents.

“Your grandmother from Paris helped me make it for you.”

Getrud revealed a music box. It had such a fine and elegant gold detail on every side of it adding a really beautiful sheen to the outside porcelain. It looked like something out of the heavens. 

“Wow, that’s so pretty. Did she help make something for my other siblings?”

“No, just you. You were always her favorite and you’re old enough to appreciate something like this. She loves how strong and unafraid of anything you are.”

“Just like you.” Oswald said.

“Just like me,” Gertrud smiled and nodded. 

“I miss Grandmother Grace. When will we see her again?” 

“I’m not sure but I promise you we’ll both visit her in Paris together one day. You can count on it.”

Oswald smiled at the silenced promise and then refocused on the music box in his mother’s hands. 

“Can I hold it?” 

“Of course! It is your gift after all.”

“How do I open it?” Oswald asked. 

Getrud turned the music box over and showed him the twisted the small metal key underneath. It opened and started playing a beautiful tune that Oswald recognized immediately.

“That’s our lullaby!” Oswald exclaimed.

“It is. It’s the lullaby that was taught to me by my mother and now I’m passing it on to you. I want you to always think about how much you are loved whenever you listen to this song.”

As the tune started up again, Gertrud sang along with the tune.

“The fire has gone out, wet from snow above,”  Getrud sang.

“But nothing will warm me more than my, my mother's love, ” Oswald continued in the next line. 

The moment was interrupted by Elijah opening the door.

“Getrud, Oswald it’s late. We have a big day tomorrow and we need to be well rested for all that is to come!” He said.

Getrud gently took the music box from Oswald’s hands and closed it. She got up and placed it on his nightstand. 

“I don’t like doing these public events, Father.” Oswald sighed. “It’s so much work.”

“My boy, you know that’s our tradition. We have to keep up an image.”

Getrud stood beside Elijah and mouthed, “It's tradition!”

Oswald giggled.

Elijah turned to Getrud and playfully scoffed.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not, my dear.” Getrud said with a smirk.

“That’s what I thought,” Elijah said as he chuckled and placed a quick peck on Gertrud's lips. “Come on, all of us to bed.” He walked out the room.

Getrud approached Oswald again and tucked him in.

“Does tomorrow have to happen, Mother?”

“Tomorrow always has to happen and we always have to keep going,” Getrud said as she kissed Oswald’s forehead.

Getrud took one last look at Oswald’s drawing in the opened sketchbook that laid on the bed and noticed a small detail on the cuff of the sleeves.

“Penguins?” She asked as she let out a small laugh.

Oswald nodded.

“You know they’re my favorite animal. Maybe Father will finally let me have something of them.”

“I’m sure he will. Goodnight, my little Cobblepot.”

“Goodnight.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all crashes down.

1917

Oswald groaned for the third time that day.

“Do we have to do this?” He whispered.

Oswald was dreading having to go to another ball. His family has one almost every month but today specifically was an important day. It was the anniversary of when the Van Dahls rose to power. Every relative was attending this event. All except for Grandmother Grace. Oswald voiced the unfairness to Getrud that Grace is able to not attend one of these events without consequences while he had to go through with it. He was mostly angry at the fact that they haven’t seen her in the longest of times and she refused the invitation. Gertrud simply said she’s retired from all this royalty shenanigans and promised to never step foot in Russia again. That didn’t stop her from living in a palace and still being treated like a queen. 

“Yes.” Gertrud whispered back to answer Oswald’s previous question. She walked by his side towards the doors of the ballroom. “Do you ever get tired of asking that?”

They were being led by the captain of the guards that has become a family friend over the years of his services. He was around helping the Van Dahls before Oswald was even born and is the only one that has gotten this close with them. Elijah and Getrud loved him so much that he would allow him to bring the son that he had especially after the passing of his wife to their palace but he rarely took up that offer. 

“What I’m tired of is having to attend all these events and interact with people I don’t know, don’t remember nor care about.” Oswald said.

“Oswald! Stop with that. Why can’t you be like Charles and Sasha who can act like they love these things?”

Oswald looked ahead at his other siblings dressed in their finest clothing, walking with pride. 

“They don’t have to act, Mother. They love this! They love the attention, they love to socialize and they don’t have to worry about what others think because they’re  so beautiful.”

Oswald has heard the murmurs when the people he greets doesn’t think he hears them. They talk about how he’s too...ugly to be considered royal. His crooked nose and his pale skin wasn’t their idea of a handsome prince. As the oldest child, he had to take over his Father’s place someday and people weren’t too fond of that idea.

“I don’t even think we should even be having this ball in the first place.” Oswald revealed.

“And why is that?” Getrud asked.

“You’ve heard the talks of a revolution. People who consider themselves communists have grown to hate us in the past decade. What will they think if they see us throwing more parties for the rich?”

“Trying telling your father that,” Getrud mumbled. Elijah was falling behind as he talked with his brothers that have come to visit and missed her comment. “And those are just rumors. You can’t believe everything you hear.”

Oswald sighed. He hated this. Getrud took in the miserable Oswald was in and felt bad at what they always made him do.

“How about this, you do one dance with me and then you’re free to go? How does that sound?” Getrud asked.

“Really?” Oswald’s face lit up.

“Yes and we’ll do it as soon as the music starts.”

“Thank you, Mother!”

“Anything for my little Cobblepot.”

“I’m 18 now, you know. You should stop calling me that.”

“You’ll always be my little Cobblepot.”

A little boy appeared by Oswald’s side and tugged on his sleeve. 

Oswald looked down and smiled.

“Hello, Martin.”

Martin Van Dahl was the unexpected child of the family. Possibly more surprising than the time Elijah and Getrud were told they were going to have twins and nine months later, Charles and Sasha were born. Elijah and Getrud told themselves they would stop at three but one night led to another and Gertrud found herself pregnant with their fourth child. Oswald was excited at the news. Charles and Sasha have been together since the womb so it made sense for them to always be attached by the hip once out it. They were each other’s best friends which made Oswald feel left out with his siblings most of the time. They all loved each other but Oswald always felt like he couldn’t really connect with them the way he would have liked. Oswald promised to not ever make Martin feel like a burden as he did and he stood by that promise by always helping his mother take care of him and read him bedtime stories and played with him despite being 10 years old than him. The Vahl Dahl family discovered Martin was mute the moment he was born but not once did that affect how they saw him. They saw it as a beautiful challenge. 

“And there’s my other little Cobblepot!” Getrud said. 

“What is it, Martin?” Oswald asked.

Martin began writing on the notepad attached to a string that hangs around his neck like a necklace. His favorite way of communication. 

I don’t like dancing either.

Oswald chuckled.

“And that’s why you’re my best friend.” Oswald said as he ruffled his hair.

Martin grinned at that. 

The family finally arrived at the doors to the ballroom. Elijah had everyone lineup the way they always did for their grand entrances and Oswald contained an eye roll remembering the promise of leaving this party early if he would dance with his mother and obeyed his father’s orders.

The guards standing by the entrance slowly began to open the large doors for them. Oswald couldn’t help but notice a shake in their movements and constantly kept trying to avoid eye contact with them. 

Were they okay? Oswald shook the thought out of his head. Nights like these must put them on edge like it does for him.

“Another night of fake smiles.” Oswald whispered to himself as he entered the ballroom. 

Everyone that was already in the room grew silent and turned to them at the sound of the doors opening. They all awed at the royal family being in their presence. As the Van Dahls walked in deeper, people began to approach them to greet them. Oswald noticed a few looking at him and mumbling to themselves, which was followed by laughing. Oswald turned away to avoid being their entertainment any longer.

The first song began and a few scurried to the dance floor with their partner to start off the night of festivities. Oswald waked over to Getrud and softly smiled. 

“May I have this dance, Mother?” Oswald asked.

“Certainly,” Getrud replied.

Oswald guided Getrud to the floor and they began to dance away to the song.

“You’ve gotten so good!” Getrud exclaimed.

“I try my best,” Oswald said.

“It’s beyond me that you haven’t snatched up a beautiful young lady yet!”

Oswald groaned.

“Mother, we talked about this. I have no interest in that.”

“Well, eventually you will have to wed and you’ll have a new Queen by your side.”

“You’ll always be my queen, Mother.”

Getrud chuckled.

“You flatter me!”

The last notes of the song played and the duo bowed as it ended. 

“Thank you for this dance, my little Copplepot. You can sneak away now,” Getrud said.

“I had fun, Mother! Truly.” Oswald.

“I’m glad you did,” Getrud said as she patted Oswald’s cheek. “Now go before Elijah notices.”

Oswald nodded and started to make his way to his secret exit when a big boom was heard outside. The whole palace shook and pieces of the ceilings came off due to the impact of the explosion.

“What’s going on?!” Everyone screamed.

Another boom was heard and fire can be seen through the windows outside. 

“We’re under attacked!” Elijah yelled. 

Everyone began to panic more and began to run in different directions to get out of the situation. 

Martin, afraid of the commotion, ran to Elijah and Elijah picked him up and held him tightly in his arms.

A group of guards entered.

“It's the Bolsheviks! This way!” One of the guards addressed Elijah. It was the one that has always been by their side.

“Come on!” Elijah told his family as they ran after the gentlemen.

Oswald stopped midway realizing he was forgetting something that he never wanted to lose.

“The music box!” He exclaimed. He ran towards his bedroom to get it. 

“Oswald!” He heard his mother call out.

The rest is history. 

———————————————————————

Grace Van Dahl receives a letter a few days later after the attack. She’s in her home in Paris when her servant brings her the mail. 

”All of them?!” She exclaims as she reads the names of the deceased.

She collapses in grief. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Nashton enters and meets a stranger

1927

Another day, another patrol.

  
It has become muscle memory by now to Edward Nashton. He awoke before the sun, showered and got dressed into his cleanly pressed uniform. The dark olive green tone of his uniform and the shining medals that adorned it made him feel important to life which he hasn’t felt in the longest, and made him into a man that he hoped would have made his father proud. He filled out reports, wrote and proclaimed cunning speeches, and marched through his patrols with Russian pride he longed to see spread across his homeland. Soon, everyone would see that a brighter future was coming. Things were already better ever since the Tsars of St. Petersburg had been replaced by the people’s Leningrad. There was much to be thankful for. The unrest and terror of the streets was gone, and little by little, the people were picking themselves up with each passing day.

  
Edward liked to think that he played a rather nice role in the new Russia. He had known since he was a child that this day would come where he would be the one in control; be the one to usher in a brighter future. Even when there were many times his father would tell him he would never become the man that Russia needed. 

  
However, sometimes there were cold days like today where Edward’s strength wavered. He was not blind to the struggles of his people around him. His patrols had him placed front and center of the problems that were left behind. If Edward truly had it his way, Russia would be a much different Russia by now. This time of healing shouldn’t be taking so long but the damage that was done by that wretched family was too much. Edward could take comfort in the fact that they were gone, as they had been gone for nearly ten years now. They were never to return, never to spread their poison ever again. He was part of a greater tomorrow to ensure that it would never be done again. They would rise from the ashes; become a new Russia, a better Russia, without the corruption of the Van Dahls.   
  


Edward knew the process would take long, but still, he grew anxious whenever he saw how his fellow comrades were still suffering. He arranged a small gathering in the middle of the village to reassure the people that everything was going to be alright. He took the small stage with grace and stood behind the standing podium. The crowd that was chattering and awaiting his arrival had silenced at his presence. 

“I hear you comrades! The revolution hears you!” Edward began. “Yes our way is long and the journey hard. The chains of the Van Dahls were heavy. They have bound us for three long centuries but we have finally broken them! Together we’ll forge a new Russia. A fair and compassionate Russia that will be the envy of all the world. That is the promise we’ve made from fellow Russian to fellow Russian. The Tsar of St. Petersburg is now the people’s Leningrad!”

  
“You can call it Leningrad but it will always be Petersburg!” Someone called out from the crowd. 

“Yeah!” The people around him cheered. 

“New day and same empty stomachs. Nothing is changing!” He continued.

“Yeah!” The people cheered again.

“Silence!” Edward yelled. The people immediately quieted, afraid of being punished. Edward sighed. The last thing he wanted was for the very people he was trying to help to be afraid of him. He knew the other soldiers had a kick in watching fear slowly form in their prey’s eyes. Edward would only seek authority if he started to get annoyed or angry. He addressed the crowd once more with a, “disperse!” before things got out of control.

The crowd did what they were told and they mumbled to each other as they left. Some were laughing along with a man with dirty blonde hair, whom Edward assumed was the one acting stupidly brave during his speech, as they walked away.

“Sir,” a Bolshevik soldier had approached him as he got off the stage. “I’ve just gotten information that there seems to be two individuals helping in spreading the rumor of Oswald Van Dahl still being alive.”

Edward sighed at the report. He was getting real tired of hearing about the Van Dahls. For the past decade, there has been talks about one of the Tsar's children surviving the massacre. This alone made the people hesitant to accept the new Russia. Edward wasn’t sure why there was even such resistance. The royal family did absolutely nothing for the people outside their palace doors and he didn’t understand why they were loved so much. It was their fault that they were in this situation in the first place.

“Which two men?” Edward demanded. He needed to put an end to anyone that helped in spreading this lie. 

The soldier looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on who he was talking about.

“The ones over there at the stand making a purchase!” The soldier pointed towards the direction of a market stand selling a variety of items.

Edward wasn’t surprised to see that the same dirty blonde from moments ago was one of the men. He immediately started heading towards the pair when the older man of the duo spotted Edward approaching them and began to bolt with his friend in tow. Edward picked up his speed as well. He cursed to himself when a bunch of citizens kept getting in his way and slowing him down, as the pair easily managed to cut through the little spaces between the crowd in the streets. Eventually, Edward couldn’t see where they last turned and huffed at the fact that he lost them. 

How did they manage to get away so fast?  Edward thought. 

Maybe because YOU were too slow?

Edward jumped at the sudden reply and clenched his jaw. He definitely did not want to be dealing with this right now. 

Leave me alone,  Edward snapped back.

I can’t. I’m you.

“Just shut up.” Edward accidentally said out loud which caused two girls who were walking and talking by him to silence as they fastened their pace to get ahead of him and started conversing again.

Edward dropped his head in defeat for the day. Edward hated the voice in his head as much as he hated the rumors of the possible last Van Dahl survivor.

——-

Peter Humboldt was walking down the streets as he swept the dust and trash from the sidewalks. In an old long plum colored jacket he found discarded on the street and some dirty beige slacks, he sneezed every single time he swept but continued on. This was usual life for Peter as long as he can remember. Though, there wasn’t much he could remember past these few years. He couldn’t recall anything that happened before he woke up in a hospital. Amnesia is what the nurse had told him. She said there was a possibility of his memories coming back but Peter hasn’t remembered one thing from his past since then. All he knew was the 10 years he had to face as a man without any recollection of who he was and having to survive on his own. 

Peter had walked halfway across Russia to get to St. Petersburg. During that trip, he had to do many things that he wasn’t sure his past self would have done. He once killed a man for a sandwich because he was starving and didn’t have any money at all at the time. He learned how to lie and manipulate to get what he wanted. He managed to get a driver to stop and hitchhike with them. Peter was being as friendly as possible to catch the man off guard. It was going well until the driver had made fun of the way he walked and called him a penguin. Peter didn’t blink twice killing him. He took control of their car and drove until it ran out of gas. Meanwhile, Peter also encountered many weirdos in the spots he chose to sleep at. However, he’s always managed to fight them off; leaving more dead bodies in his wake. 

Now he’s currently a street sweeper that’s living under a bridge hoping the amount of money he has collected over time would be enough to get papers from someone named James Gordon to help him leave this country. Someone was kind enough to tell him that James could be found in an abandoned theatre in the town and that’s where he plans to head to to discuss leaving. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to leave Russia but he just needed to get out here. He felt as if there was someone waiting for him.

A gunshot like sound went off and Peter found himself quickly discarding the broom he was using and threw himself onto the ground. He subconsciously started grabbing onto his stomach where an ugly scar was. The nurse never told him what helped make it but the sound of the gunshot immediately reminded him of the scarring and all sense of reality was vanished. Peter was scared.

  
  


Edward reached the podium again when he heard the same sound. He was more concerned at the figure falling in front of him rather than why the noise occurred. He faced the direction to where the sound had come from and saw it was simply a vehicle. 

“Hey, that was just a truck backfiring!” Edward called out to the fallen man. “That’s all it was.” 

Peter slowly lifted his head up at the voice and looked at Edward, a new fear entering him when he noticed who exactly was speaking. The sight of the man in uniform worsened the fear he was feeling and he couldn’t figure out why. He has seen many Bolshevik soldiers in his life but never once had he communicated with one. There was always a voice in the back of his head telling him to not stay around them for too long so he always quickly left before being seen. He felt his breaths coming in quicker than usual as he felt helpless. 

“Those days are over,” Edward explained as he got closer and picked up the broom Peter had dropped. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.” 

Edward noticed the Peter’s breaths coming in unevenly and he once again felt concern towards the man. 

“Hey,” He softly said as he bent down next to Peter. He put his hand on his shoulder which Peter flinched at and Edward pulled his hand away immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Edward said. “I mean you no harm. Just try to breathe okay? Follow my count.”

Peter listened to Edward as he started counting. He followed his instructions until he felt his breathing return to normal

“There you go,” Edward said. “Good job.” 

Edward stood from his crouching position and offered Peter a hand. Peter hesitated and just stared at it. This was a soldier he was talking to. Peter looked at the badges on Edward’s chest. Not even a soldier, but a general. Peter didn’t know why this man decided to help but he couldn’t help but still be wary of him regardless of that. Everyone did things for an alternative motive. That’s what he learned over the years.

Peter accidentally made eye contact with the man and to his surprise he saw a kind of softness in them. He has never seen more comforting chocolate brown eyes than the ones he was looking into in that very moment. They weren’t intimidating and stone cold as the other soldiers were. 

Meanwhile, Edward swore he had never seen more beautiful eyes than the ones looking back at him. Green and innocent. He felt the urge to protect this man with all his being. The eyes were eyes he swore he had seen before but he couldn’t place when. Edward could see the gears turning in the man’s head as he thought about completing the action that Edward was offering. He couldn’t blame him. Edward wouldn’t be so keen to trusting him either.

Oh god. Two seconds and you’re already crushing on this stranger?

Quiet. Edward thought. 

Peter decided to take the outstretched hand and Edward helped him back on his feet. Peter immediately grabbed at his leg as soon as his feet settled onto the ground and let out a groan.

“Are you alright?” Edward asked. “ I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, it wasn’t you. It’s just a bit broken. I’m sorry about...whatever that was. I don’t know what came over me.” Peter cursed himself for showing weakness, especially in front of a Bolshevik. 

“No need to thank me. I’m glad I was able to help. What happened to your leg, if I may ask?”

“For someone everyone runs at the sight at, you are very polite.” Peter chuckled as he felt himself returning back to normal. His eyes widened remembering who he was talking to. He needed to do damage control. “I’m so sorry, sir. For disrespecting you like that. I didn’t mean-”

Edward held out a hand, cutting Peter off. “It’s alright. You didn’t mean any disrespect.”

I would have beaten him for that. 

Edward dismissed the voice in his head. 

Peter swallowed, feeling quite relieved which was a strange feeling to feel around a man like Edward.

“Okay,” Peter had said. “And to answer your previous question, I was in an accident and it never healed properly. But I can still do my job fast and well!”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Edward said. “I would say you were magnificent for pushing through despite your injury.”

Is it throw a million compliments day?

Peter couldn’t help the blush coloring his cheeks. He never really was told something nice like that before. Maybe he did in his past life but this was the first compliment he has received that he could remember. 

“T-thank you,” He stammered out, caught off guard. “Speaking of my job, I really must go. This is the good hour and I don’t want to miss anymore than I have.” Peter rushed past Edward. He needed to get away from him as soon as possible.

Edward grabbed Peter’s arm before he got further.

Peter turned back to look at him. Peter knew it was too good to be true. 

“You’re shaking,” Edward commented. 

“W-what do you want from me?” Peter asked. 

“The poor have it, the rich need it and eat it you die.” Edward immediately said.

Peter blinked.

“Pardon?” He questioned. Did he just ask him a riddle? Was this man for real?

“It’s a riddle. The answer is nothing.”

“Oh?”

“Do you like riddles?” Edward asked.

“I’ve never really thought about them.” Peter confessed.

“Oh.” Edward said. He let go of Peter’s arm. “I apologize for the tug. I just wanted to say...goodbye.”

“Goodbye, yes.” Peter said as he took a couple steps back. When Edward didn’t make a move to grab him again, Peter sped off. 

“I’m here everyday!” Edward called out after him and cringed at his words.

Nice one, Ed. You ended up scaring him and weirding him out. I didn’t know that was possible.

“Shut up,” Edward mumbled. 

Edward realized he never caught his name. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets Jim and Harvey, two men who are trying to pull the biggest con ever.

Peter couldn’t help but think about that odd but interesting man he had just encountered as he made his way to his destination. He was very different from the rest. Peter never had a close encounter with another soldier like he just did. He just saw how they were from a distance. They were cruel and enjoyed having power over those who can’t fight back. Whenever he saw a scene unfold with them, he turned and ran the other direction. He knew better. But this soldier...this soldier seemed very different.

Peter’s thoughts were interrupted when he felt himself collide with something or should he say someone. He took a step back and found himself looking at a woman with a blonde.

“Watch where you’re going!” The woman yelled.

“I’m sorry?” Peter tried.

The woman took in his presence. She eyed him up and down. Peter felt himself become a little self conscious.

“Are you here to audition too?” She finally asked.   
  


“Audition for what?”

“To be royal’s next top model,” The woman said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Peter still looked at her funny.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever. You go in there and you tell him he’s going to regret ever dumping me.” With a flip of her hair, she left.

Strange.

Peter looked where the woman came out from and saw it was the abandoned theatre he was told about. He approached the door and pressed his ear against it when he heard mutters coming from the inside.

“You really need to start letting Barbara down more gently,” A man from inside said.

“I’ve told her thousands of times that it’s over yet she comes here everyday to try and win me back. It’s tiring.” Another voice resonated.

“All I’m saying is her threats of snitching sounds real. I don’t want to be sent to jail or possibly even killed when we’re so close to pulling off the biggest con.”

“We don’t even know if the rumor is true. It can simply be gossip that’s being said to get us through the day.”

“Who cares if it’s true or not? Everyone else thinks so. Even the Bolsheviks do or else they wouldn’t be having so many spies on the streets to make sure we don’t repeat it. Hell, we almost got caught this morning buying a music box from the merchant to cheat our way into the castle. Totally not worth two can of beans, may I add.”

“You wanted that music box because they said it was Van Dahl property.” 

“Which could be true and we need anything that can help us trick the old woman. Although the Tsar didn’t survive, one son may still be alive and the royal grandmother has a very handsome reward for the ones to bring her the lost prince. You can’t say you don’t believe we can win when you’re here with me trying to find the man to dress and teach them what to say to play the part.”

“I suppose you’re right,” The man let out a sigh.

Peter thought it was time to introduce himself. He knocked on the door.

Curses were told on the other side. An “I told you so” was thrown in the air and then silence.

Peter turned the knob and saw that it was unlocked. He entered.

“Hello?” He called out. “I heard you from outside. I’m looking for someone called James Gordon? I was told I would find you here.”

The man, James, took a peak from his hiding spot and saw the person that entered was simply a common man.

“I’m James.” He appeared from behind a curtain. “But everyone calls me Jim. What do you want?”

“I need exit papers and I heard you were the only one that could provide me with them,” Peter explained.

“Exit papers huh?” Jim scoffed. He took a seat in the chair that was placed near him. “Those are sure expensive.” He finished in a tone that suggests he wasn’t taking Peter seriously.

“I saved a little money-” Peter began before he was interrupted.

“The right papers costs A LOT.”

“I’m a hard worker. You’ll get your money-”

“What do you do?” Jim interrupted.

“I’m currently a street sweeper.”

A laugh erupted behind them, revealing the man the second voice belonged to.

“A street sweeper, Jim!” The man said. “A street sweeper.”

“Cool it, Harvey.” Jim warned, his dismissive facade melting. 

“I also wash dishes. Before that I worked at a hospital in Perm.” Peter continued. 

“That’s a long way from here.” Jim commented.

“I know. I walked it.” 

“You walked here all the way from Perm?” Jim said, for the first time genuinely curious. 

“I had no choice,” Peter said. 

“What were you running from?” Harvey asked. 

“That’s none of your concern. Can you get me the papers or not?” Peter replied.

“How can I possibly give you want you want if you can’t tell me where you’re going? Trust goes both ways.” Jim said. 

Peter mentally scoffed.

“If you really must know I want to go to Paris. I may have someone waiting for me there.”

“You don’t need papers. There’s a canal out there. Jump in and start swimming. You’ll be there in Paris before you know it!” Harvey shouted. “He’s crazy.”

Jim narrowed his eyes at Harvey who just shrugged off. 

“I’m not crazy.” Peter snapped. He immediately dropped the nice act. “Why are you two being so aggravating?”

“We were hoping you would be someone else.” Harvey dramatically sighed as he fell into the other chair in the room. 

“Who?” Peter asked.

“Someone who may not even exist.” Jim said.

Peter for the first time took a look around the room. He’s suddenly taken aback as he has now become aware of where he is.

“I’ve been in this room before...there was a play. Everyone was beautifully dressed.”

“This was the private theatre in Count Yusupov’s Palace.”

“People were kind and polite,” Peter said as he suddenly felt light headed

“He’s going to faint on us!” Harvey said with more annoyance than concern.

Jim quickly got up from his chair and brought it near Peter to have him sit on it.

“When did you eat last?” Jim asked.

“We danced. There was champagne. I stole a sip!” Peter continued, ignoring the question asked. 

“Where are your manners, Harvey? Get him some water and a piece of that cheese too.” Jim ordered.

“This isn’t a soup kitchen, Jim.” Harvey said.

Jim gave him another look and Harvey unhappily went to do as he was told, grumbling. Jim turned his attention back onto Peter who seemed to be coming out of his trance. 

“You must excuse my partner over there’s behavior. Life hasn’t been easy on him.” Jim said.

“Life hasn’t been easy for anyone.” Peter countered as he shook his head from the images he was seeing just before.

Harvey returned with the same items and handed them to Peter.

“Thank you,” Peter sarcastically said as Harvey glared at him but he suddenly stopped when he took a look into in his eyes. Van Dahl eyes. He dragged Jim a few feet away by the arm.

“Jesus, Harvey. What is it?” Jim asked as he took back his arm.

“Let’s not us not be too quick about this one,” Harvey said.

“Us?” Jim said. Clearly Harvey was the one being the most dismissive. 

“Those eyes...that pointed nose...Jim, I’ve been around the royal family for some time when I was dating one of their maids. I’ve caught glimpses of each royal child and that man sitting in that chair over there comes close to the Oswald Van Dahl I remember when he was in his teens.”

Jim looked back at Peter who was nibbling on the cheese they had given him.

“You really think he can pull off royalty?” Jim asked.

“Think so? I know so!” Harvey replied with such enthusiasm that Jim didn’t know he had as he ran back to Peter.

“What is your name?” Harvey asked.

“Why should I tell you if you aren’t going to bother to help me?” Peter said as he finished the last of the food.

“Let’s say we had a change of heart,” Jim responded. “We got to get as much information from you to make these papers possible.”

Peter took both the men in. They were clearly hiding from authorities. They wouldn’t go on and snitch on him. He gave in. 

“I’ll be honest with you, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Harvey scoffed. “How do you not know your name?”

“They gave me a name at the hospital that I woke up at. Peter is what they chose to call me. They told me I had amnesia. There was nothing they could do about it.”

Harvey and Jim exchanged glances.

“Tell us what you can remember.” Jim said as he sat back in the chair.

“They said I was found by the side of a road.  A boy with no name,  no memories and a damaged leg is what they kept telling each other. I was the talk of the hospital for awhile.” Peter told his tale.

Peter remembered the nurses whispering,  "Call him Peter.  Don’t let them see him." but they never revealed from who they were hiding him from. 

“When I was able to leave I  traveled the backroads, slept in the woods and I took what needed. Worked when I could. Now I’m here.” Peter finished recalling.

“Maybe we can help you after all, Peter.” Harvey said as he wrapped an arm around Peter. “So, it happens we are going to Paris ourselves.”

“I may be suffering from amnesia but I’m not an idiot.” Peter shoved Harvey’s arm off his shoulder. “What do you really want?”

“We just had a change of heart that’s all.” Jim explained.

“Does it have to do with the plan revolving around the Empress?” Peter asked without hesitation. 

Jim and Harvey’s eyes widened at the mention.

“You aren’t exactly quiet. I heard you before coming in here.”

Jim and Harvey stumbled over their words to try and misguide that assumption but they were failing miserably.

“You really think I could pass off being a prince?” Peter chuckled. “Now you are the ones that are crazy.”

“Look we both want to get out of Russia and we want money,” Jim said. “Let’s help each other. If we pull this off, Harvey and I will be rich and you’ll be rich yourself living like royalty.”

Peter shook his head at the thought of playing prince. This was but he had nothing left to lose. If he got to Paris, it’ll be worth it.

“When do we start?” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara Kean delivers Edward some news.

Several days had passed when Edward was interrupted from his paperwork by Barbara Kean in the headquarters. 

The clacking of typewriter keys that filled Edward’s ears and the footsteps of various people walking in and out were drowned out by the voice coming from the blonde woman.

She was babbling about someone pretending to be Oswald Van Dahl.

“Anything considering the Van Dahls, including the rumors, we take very seriously.” Edward stated as he looked at the report she made. 

“I already told you, he’s much of a Van Dahl as I am.” Barbara replied. “He’s a street sweeper who’s been sleeping under a bridge until he took up with them. His name is Peter.”

“Thank you,” Edward said rather dismissively as he pretended to write down the information he was given.

“Aren't you going to arrest him?” Barbara asked.

“You’ve done your duty,” Edward said. “And I’ve done mine by listening to your gossip.”

“It’s not gossip, it’s true-” Barbara was interrupted by a loud slam on the desk.

She immediately silenced and stiffened as she watched Edward stare her down intimidating and closing the file he had in front of him. He slowly got up from his seat and made it way around the table to her. He put one finger under Barbara’s chin and indicated for her to rise as his finger did. 

“The next time I see you wandering in this street, I won’t look the other way when a soldier puts you in your place.” Edward blew in her face as Barbara took that as a sign to leave and ran out. 

_ That was nice. _

“You took over for a bit, didn’t you?” Edward mumbled to himself.

_ Don’t act like you didn’t want to do that. It felt good, didn’t it? _

“I don’t like feeling this powerful,” Edward confessed.

_ Nonsense. She was getting on your nerves. You simply got her to shut up. _

“What if she what she was saying is true?”

_ Oh, please. You were there that night. You saw each of them die. _

  
The prince was long dead and gone, like his family. The people refused to accept it, but it was a reality he had been forced to experience. His mind wandered elsewhere, to a different time.

He had been a boy then, the night his father and his men took out their pistols with a confident expression on their faces. He had told young Edward to go, to not look and listen. He had defied those orders, peeking outside across the street and seeing Oswald himself, a model of pride and resolve even as he headed to his doom. Edward had turned away shortly after but there was no blocking out the sounds. The final cries of the royal family still rang in his ears as clearly as day. They had a dog with them and silent tears rolled down his cheeks as its last whimpers died out. His father was their most trusted guard. How could he possibly do this?

Edward lost the innocence of a child right then. His father came home, face grave and white as a ghost. The confidence that was once there was gone. He quickly shook it off when he noticed Edward watching him. It was necessary he told him. It had to be done. He had to do what his boss said. It didn’t take long for Edward to soon find himself more alone in the world as his father continued to take his out his anger on him and drank himself to death.

With his mother dying years prior and now his father, the new government took him in and he then understood what his father helped set into motion and why everything had to be necessary. That’s what he tells himself. He vowed to carry on the Nashton legacy and his zeal and drive sent him soaring up the ranks of the militia, to the fine officer he was in now. If he couldn’t make his father proud before, maybe he could in this time with all of his achievements.

And still the Van Dahls haunted him, the silence a constant accusation.   
  


“The rumors never end,” Edward said as he threw the folder of the newest Oswald Van Dahl in the trash.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim, Harvey and Peter begin their lesson.

Are you ready to become the Grand Duke Oswald Chesterfield Van Dahl?” Jim explained as he held open a book about the history of the Van Dahls.

“I, for once, don’t think I can do something.” Peter confessed. “What if she calls me an imposter?”

“Then we’ll say it’s an honest mistake!” Jim said. “It would be a bummer to not receive all of that money but either way, it gets you to Paris and it gets us out of Russia. Everybody wins.”

Peter sighed from where he sat. 

“How do I become him?” Peter asked.

“Take a deep breath. Close your eyes, and imagine another time, another world you were born in a palace by the sea.” Harvey said. 

“A palace by the sea?” Peter asked.

“Yes, it's true. You rode horseback when you were only three.”

“Horseback riding? Me?” Peter scoffed at that. He would never get on a horse.

“Horse's name?” Jim asked.

“Romeo. You were known for throwing tantrums and terrorized the cook! Your mother would give you the look and you would finally behave.” Harvey responded on cue as if they were following a script.

“We've got lots and lots to teach you.” Jim said.

Harvey suddenly got up from his crouched position, Jim following his movements.

“Let's see you walk!” Harvey pulled Peter out of his way too fast for his liking. He tried to regain his balance as he stumbled. 

“Head up!” Harvey instructed as he started to grab Peter and helped him get into the right position.

“Don’t touch me,” Peter hissed.

“Take it easy, you’re supposed to be a prince not a princess. Now, shoulders back and stand up tall and do not walk, but try to float. Mind that limp of yours!”

“I feel like a fool,” Peter said as he tried to walk with grace despite the limp he had to deal with.

Harvey laughed at his attempt and mocked the way he walked. Jim smacked his shoulder, hard, before telling him to cut it out.

“You’re the ones who can’t stand straight!” Peter said.

“That’s due to all his years of bowing and countating to the royals.” Jim said. 

“Bowing is a sign of respect, Jim. And let me tell you St. Petersburg was lovely when royalty was a thunf. I called myself a count, you see, and hung out with them royals. But then with my luck the Tsar was dead, the royals fled and now we’re stuck here!”

“No one asked for your life story, Harv.” Jim said. 

“That I can agree on,” Peter replied. 

Harvey and Jim dragged Peter towards a small table they set up with cups and silverware on it.

“Now, elbows in and sit up straight a nd do not slurp the stroganoff,”

“I never cared for stroganoff!” Peter exclaimed.

“He said that like a Van Dahl!” Harvey shouted.

A couple of hours have passed when Peter felt his stomach rumble.

“Are we done yet?” Peter asked. 

“Let’s try a lightning round to see if you got it and then we can call it a day.” Jim suggested.

“ Who is your great-grandmother?” Harvey immediately jumped into the questions. 

“Queen Victoria.” Peter answered.

“Great-great grandmother?”

“Uh…” Peter thought for a moment. “Princess Victoria of Saxe-Colburg-Saalfeld!”

“Your best friend is?” Jim asked this time. 

“My little brother, Martin!” Peter knew he got that one right. He had envisioned him as a young boy with curly hair who chose to communicate through drawings ever since they first told him about him. It seemed too specific for it to be an imagination. 

“Wrong! Your best friend?” Jim challenged.

“I know who my best friend is!” Peter yelled as he got up from his seat. How dare he defy him?

“What a temper!” Jim commented.

“I don't like being contradicted!” Peter sneered.

“That makes two of us!” Jim replied.

“I've had it! I hate you both and I wish we never met! I'm hungry and this is just too much to take in such a short amount of time. I'm only human, you know!” Peter yelled as he hit Jim with the book.

“Just calm down, alright?”

“Easy for you to say! You don’t have two men throwing so much information at you and expecting you to memorize it all.”

“I made this last night to help out,” Harvey revealed a chalkboard with a family tree. 

“You couldn’t have shown me this earlier?!” Peter exclaimed. 

“This was meant to be as a review not a lesson. Now here's your great Aunt Olga,” Harvey pointed to a corner.

““Your distant cousin Penn loved his vodka,” Jim said as Harvey pointed to another part of the family tree.

“Got it, Peter?”

“Ugh, no.”

“The Duke of Oldenburgh was short!”

“He had a...” Peter tried to remember. “Wart!

“Yes! And Count Sergei…” Jim began.

“Wore a feathered hat,” Oswald finished.

“I hear he has gained a few pounds,” Harvey commented.

“And I recall his yellow cat!” Peter shouted. Wait what? How did he know that.

Harvey and Jim looked at each other.

“I don’t believe we told him that,” Harvey whispered.

“I think I got this…” Peter took a deep breath before continuing. “The caviar, the stroganoff, the Samovar, the feathered hat, the cousin drank, the duke was short, here a wart and there a cat. The horse's name was Romeo, I got it all!”

“You got it!”

“Thank god,” Peter said as he collapsed into the chair.

  
  


“Same time tomorrow?” Harvey asked. 

Peter narrowed his eyes and Harvey let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“Fine. We can take a break.” Harvey said.

“That’s more like it,” Peter said as he took his leave. 

Every night in Russia was chilly but this one in particular was freezing. The sweater Peter wore was much too thin for this condition.

Peter made his way back to the bridge he would always sleep under when he felt himself being grabbed by a pair of strong hands.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Peter looked at his captors and saw they were Bolshevik soldiers.

“You’re coming with us.”

Shit.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward never thought he would reunite with the man he can’t seem to stop thinking about.

“Thank you, sir. Your confidence in me won’t be mistaken.” Edward said into the phone. “I absolutely adore this office with the view. If only we had better working telephones.” Edward said the last line with a laugh which faded into a short pause.

“That was a joke,” Edward explained. “We have wonderful telephones.” Edward never knew when to shut up.

“They’re here,” A guard entering the office has reported.

Edward nodded towards him as he returned back to the call. 

“Sir, our little troublemaker has been found.” He hung up the phone, slightly relieved he was done with that conversation and turned back to the guard that informed him.

“Bring him in!” Edward ordered.

The guard went to fetch the others holding the man outside the door.

Edward got up from his desk and moved around it. He fixed his collar and tried to find the best posture.

Very intimidating.

_ Like you can do better _ .  Edward snapped.

_ Actually I can.  _

The thoughts were interrupted when Edward heard footsteps re-enter the room and a drop. 

Edward kept his back turned to the individuals in the room. He loved to keep them in suspense. He looked out the window where he saw people going about their day on the streets.

“Our city has many people coming and going who are trying to create a future for themselves. I stand on this very spot everyday by the window just admiring them and wondering why a few bad apples are getting up in micheious instead. Behavior that can be taken as counter revolutionary.”

“Why was I brought here?” The voice from the troublemaker asked. Edward furrowed his eyebrows. That voice sounded oddly familiar. He turned.

“I thought you could tell me- oh my god it’s you!” Edward finished with a small gasp.

There stood the man he had met the other day on the streets. 

Peter also seemed to be in shock to see Edward standing in front of him.

_ Of course I would have met the deputy commissioner _ . Peter thought.  _ Just my luck. _

“Y-you’re the street sweeper I met the other day. I never thought I would see you again…” Edward found himself saying as he stared at Peter.

_ Cut it out with the eye sex. _

That thought snapped Edward out of his trance and cleared his throat.

“All of you are dismissed.” Edward said as he moved his hands in a sweeping away matter as his guards looked at each other confused and left the room.

“Peter, am I right?” Edward asked.

“Yes,” Peter replied.

“I believe I haven't introduced myself either. I’m Deputy Commissioner Edward Nashton,” Edward said as he held out his hand for Peter to shake. Peter didn’t take it. Edward let his hand fall.

_ The nerve... _

“It’s the uniform and the office that gives a bad impression,” Edward said trying to be understandable.”I’m really not so bad.”

Peter just stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You see...I have a sense of humor.”

_ Oh god. _

Peter continued to just stare at him. What was Edward trying to do?

An awkward silence passed between them as Edward fidgeted with his hands. He let out a forced laugh to try and break the tension in the room. Peter raised an eyebrow at that and the faintest of smiles formed on his face. Edward took that as an invitation to hold out his hand again. Peter decided to take it this time.

Edward couldn’t help but see how well their hands fit together.

Peter couldn’t help but feel the spark that occurred when they touched hands. 

“You’re still shaking,” Edward noticed. He let go of Peter’s hand. “A friendly cup of tea can warm us both up.” He gestured Peter to follow him to his desk where he pulled out the chair that’s placed in front of it for Peter. Peter took his seat. 

“Thank you,” Peter said.

Edward softly smiled at him for acknowledging his kindness and then noticed his coat that was behind his chair. He grabbed it and placed it around Peter.

“What are you doing?”

“I know how cold it gets out there. You can borrow mine for awhile.”

“You’re going to freeze yourself.”

“I’ve been in much worse weather. Don’t worry about it.”

Peter proceeded in putting his arms through the sleeves. He felt inordinary safe in it. Edward saw this as another small victory as he started to pour the tea he promised.

Peter knew he shouldn’t feel this safe around a soldier so he ignored the butterflies in his stomach and got to the point.

“So, what’s the charge?” Peter asked.

“There is no charge,” Edward replied. “Why should there be? You have a job, trying to get food on the table and trying to get your own place. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m very thankful,” Peter said. He really was. He was expecting the worst when he was brought in here.

“This is why I’m warning you to leave your world of make believe before it’s too late.” Edward said. Saddened he has to break the easygoing conversation they were having.

“I don’t understand?” Peter said, playing the fool.

Peter had to make sure Edward thought him clueless.

“If you look you cannot see me. And if you see me you cannot see anything else. I can make anything you want happen, but later everything goes back to normal. What am I?”

Peter blinked. When they first met, he thought the man was just weird but this is just how he communicates. It was different and he liked it. 

“You’re asking me another riddle?” He asked.

“I am. I’m sorry it’s a habit. The answer is-“

“Imagination?” Peter replied.

Edward’s face lit up. 

“Correct!” Edward has never had someone actually try to answer his riddles before. He also never expected anyone to get them right. Peter was indeed someone special and someone that matches his intellect. 

Edward suddenly frowned at what he had to say next.

“If you were really who you were pretending to be, they would kill you.” Edward explains. “Without hesitation.”

“But everyone imagines being someone else. It’s an innocent fantasy.” Peter said, continuing his act. He may have taken a liking to the man in front of him but he still had to be careful. He was onto his scheme with the con men. He needed to see how much he could get out of him.

“No, Peter.” Edward said. “It’s a dangerous one. The Van Dahls are gone, every last one of them. They no longer exist.”

Edward sighed as took a few steps away from the desk and looked out the window again.

“My father was one of the guards that was there that night. He was told to fire. He obeyed orders.”

Now this was something Peter wasn’t expecting to hear.

“I saw the children as they closed the gates. I heard the shots and I heard the screams but it was the silence after that I remember the most.” Edward had a far away look in his eyes as he recalled that night. He didn’t notice Peter wasn’t fully there either. Peter could somehow see what Edward was talking about. Everything was burning around them. He remembers small arms wrapped around him. Could it have been Martin? Peter shook his head. That was only pretend. He remembers sobbing coming from a girl next to him. Her head was tucked into another boy’s shoulder.

Sasha and Charles.

“I ask myself everyday if I could be capable of pulling the trigger if I had been told,” Edward continued. 

Peter remembered gunshots and screaming as the first man fell to the ground. 

Elijah. 

The brothers of Elijah were next to follow. Peter remembers a hand grabbing his arm. He looked up to see Gertrud pushing him towards his siblings. 

“Run!” She shouted and then a strong pain in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry for throwing all that on you,” Edward said. “I really haven't talked about it to anyone.”

That snapped Peter out of his trance.

“It-it’s alright. Thank you for your warning, comrade.” Peter said.

“Please, call me Ed.” Edward said. 

Peter nodded.

“May I go back to work, Ed?” Peter asked.

“Very well,” Edward said. “As your friend I want to say, be careful.”

Peter gave him the most thankful smile he could muster as he started to walk away when he felt Edward’s hand on his arm again.

“As Deputy Commissioner, however, I want to say be  very careful.” Edward said as he let go of Peter’s arm and let him walk out.

_ You’re falling too fast. _

“I think I already have,” Edward whispered to an empty room.

The room was filled with men again a moment later. It was the group Edward sent to investigate the theatre.

“Sir, no one was there when we arrived but there was evidence that there was.”

“What kind of evidence?”

“A chalkboard with the Van Dahl family tree,”

_ Got them. _

That was enough proof to prove that these con men were trying to make an Oswald Van Dahl.

“And…” the soldier began again. Edward snapped his attention back to him. “We found this.”

It was a music box.

Edward took it and tried to open it. No luck.

“We weren’t sure what that might be but everything counts.” The soldier said.

“This is great. Thank you, gentlemen.” Edward said. 

Just as he was about to dismiss the men, a new voice filled the room.

“What’s so great?”

Everyone immediately threw their arms onto their side and went into saluting form. It was the head of the Bolshevik soldiers, Nathaniel Barnes.

“Adees, soldiers.” The boss made eye contact with Edward.

“So, these troublemakers. Where are they?”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to finish the story and then post it all in one chapter but I think separating into different ones would be better. Tell me what you think so far so I can continue it!


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